I decided to go to Wendy’s for lunch – even though I was worried about losing my parking spot – because I really didn’t like the food I made. I started to head toward the one I know about on the side of town I’m more familiar with, but I figured there had to be one closer. I put it in my GPS and saw that there was one a mile closer to me in the opposite direction.
When I got there, traffic in the drive thru was backed up to the street and cars couldn’t get in. I was in the left turning lane behind two other cars, so I pulled in the exit to the lot and parked and went inside. I ordered a double stack and four chicken nuggets with barbecue sauce. I also asked for a whole bunch of chili sauce, as it is my favorite sauce for anything. While I was waiting, I noticed that the lady expediting the food was being nice to everyone and using pet names. I wondered if those people were regulars or if she knew them, or if she was just really friendly. I hoped she’d be friendly with me. When she was bagging my food, she put an order of fries in the bag instead of chicken nuggets. I clarified what I’d ordered and she took the fries out, and when she did one of them landed on the counter. My first instinct was to reach out and grab the fry and eat it. I had to actively stop myself from doing that. She might not have been nice to me after that if I’d done it.
When I got back to work and opened the bag, I realized I forgot to ask again for the whole bunch of chili sauce I wanted. I know by now to ask the person bagging the food, not the person taking the order, but I still do it this way every single time. I have more at home, but I like to get some every time I go. Plus that meant I didn’t have any for today. There was a fry left at the bottom of the bag and I got to enjoy a fry after all.
I had my last chocolate-covered Twinkie when I got home from work and was not very enthusiastic about having any of the rest of the food I had prepped for dinner. I have about two pounds of red beans and rice, but I didn’t make it flavorful enough and it also doesn’t have enough sausage in it. There’s a very low sausage to everything else ratio. It takes a lot of my willpower to not just eat all the sausage immediately. The other meal I prepped for my lunches is a vegetarian pasta thing with a spicy sauce made of a tomato base mixed with blended roasted sweet potatoes and other veggies. It’s good but I’m like what’s the point. I think I allow myself to become easily demotivated by trying to eat healthier. It’s like I know it’s something I should be doing, so it feels like work and therefore a burden. I’m also like this with basically everything in my life.
I ended up having two pieces of frozen garlic bread and a Cow Tale (I learned right now that it’s spelled that way and not “tail”). I wanted to have two more pieces of garlic bread but I didn’t really feel like it since my oven doesn’t work like it’s supposed to and I’m having a hard time getting maintenance to come out and look at it. It gets much hotter than whatever temperature I set it to and one of the burners will turn on by itself if I don’t keep the breaker turned off. When I first moved in, the breaker switch to the range was off (none of the other ones, just that one), which makes me think they already know it does this and don’t want to deal with it. The funny thing about that is that my father has the same problem with his oven and has to keep that breaker switch off too, providing a unique example of how I’m slowly but surely turning into him.
Last weekend when my boyfriend and I were in the pie shop, we learned that they were having some specials for Pi Day. I’d been thinking about it ever since then and was planning to get several different slices since they’d only be $3.14. When I got down there, I found out there was only one type of pie and only small, unflavored lattes featured as part of the sale. Not only that, they were sold out of that one pie at the moment and it would be another 20 minutes before any more would be ready. I admit it was presumptuous of me to think that all of their pie would be on sale, but for them to be a pie shop advertising a gimmick-based sale on Pi Day only to have one type of pie for the sale and not have it fully stocked really hurt my feelings. The two people in front of me left without ordering when they heard the pie was unavailable, but I ordered a latte and a slice of regular-priced pie because I am physically incapable of leaving without buying something if I am in a place that sells things.
When I pulled the first piece of ham out of the package, I felt very excited – much more so than the situation reasonably called for. I’m telling myself it’s because I was glad I went with a better brand even though it cost more, and not that I’m literally elated by the sight of packaged lunch meat.
I wish I had gotten nine pieces of cheese instead of just eight, because I wanted to eat a piece by itself while I was making the sandwich. By that logic, I would probably wish I had an extra piece of cheese per sandwich every time I made one. By THAT logic, I should have gotten a package of Sargento or something because most of their packages have 11 slices and that would be almost enough to do that. By the time I thought all this through, I decided I would be fine not having an appetizer cheese slice and finished putting my sandwich together.
This was a really good sandwich, even though it was just ham, cheese, and yellow mustard cold on a roll.
I went to the grocery store after work to get some ham and cheese for sandwiches. While I stood in line at the deli, I thought about the best way to describe how much cheese I wanted. I’d gotten a package of four rolls, so I’d need eight slices of cheese. I have no idea how much eight slices of cheese weighs. When it was my turn, I asked the guy if I was allowed to order eight slices of cheddar cheese and he said absolutely. When he handed me my order, he asked if I needed anything else or if “this is just a cheese day.” I looked at him for a second or two while I tried to think of something funny to say. I couldn’t, so I told him that was all I needed. The eight slices ended up weighing about a third of a pound, which is a more common way of ordering amounts of cheese and how I’ll do it in the future if I ever need exactly four sandwiches-worth of cheddar again.
I went to the lunch meat section to pick out some ham. I needed more of that than I needed cheese and wanted to save money, so I didn’t need to get my ham from the deli. I spent a few minutes comparing prices and what I could see of the product through the packaging. I don’t like rectangular-shaped slices and thought the store brand would almost definitely be that kind. There were several different kinds of turkey flavors like mesquite, black pepper, honey, smoked, maybe something else, but that’s not what I needed and I regretted not having that many ham options.
I’m trying to decide if I want to make something to eat or not. There’s nothing wrong with being equally open to either idea. I can eat or not eat and I won’t be any more pleased or comfortable with either one of them. Choosing not to eat doesn’t make me controlled or smart and choosing to eat doesn’t make me undisciplined or bad. I’m not ready to make a decision and have to feel burdened either way. While I am equally weighing both options, I’m at peace because I haven’t done anything yet that I’m going to have to deal with. I still have time. I want to not eat because it’s the healthier choice and also eating when I’m not hungry but just bored makes me uncomfortable. In the time it took to write this, I have been able to decide to sit back down and not eat anything.
I went to the coffee shop on my way to work to get a pumpkin spice latte. A good thing about where I’ve moved to is that there’s a coffee shop very close to my apartment. The weird thing about this shop though is that their large is 16 ounces and the medium is 12. I don’t even know what the small is, probably 8? That’s so small. That’s like kid-size. Like I shouldn’t be allowed to order that unless I’m under 12 years old. Sometimes I want 20 ounces of coffee all at once. Maybe they have that and it’s called extra large. I can’t remember how many different cups they have.
I was in there earlier this week for a pumpkin spice latte and saw they have a house made rosemary and brown sugar syrup. I got that instead in a large and was very glad that it was only 16 ounces. The flavor was so savory, too savory for a sweet beverage. I really only like rosemary on potatoes, but I like it on potatoes a lot so I thought that meant I liked it a lot. I didn’t even finish it, I poured it out and made coffee from the bag that I keep at my desk.
Yesterday I bought two steaks and two baked potatoes to cook, one each for dinner tonight and on Thursday. I’ve never made a steak myself before – I know it’s relatively simple, not necessarily to do perfectly, but to do well enough to be a good dinner. Today when I got home I remembered I still haven’t bought a microwave. I didn’t want to wait for a potato to cook in the oven so I decided to heat up some of the chicken and biscuit bake I made for my work lunches last night, but then realized that I needed a microwave for that too. I decided to go back to the steak dinner and just make my potato in the oven.
I put olive oil, salt, and pepper on the potato, wrapped it in foil, and put it in the oven. After 40 minutes, I started on my steak. I put salt and pepper on it and put it in one of the new pans my dad got me for my birthday. The burner doesn’t sit evenly and one side of the pan got all scorched. While the steak was resting I took the potato out. It cooked for an hour but was still hard in the middle. The steak came out really good, only slightly above medium rare, but I think I ruined my pan. I need to look up how to clean it. I hope I didn’t ruin it, it’s a good pan and this was the first time I even used it.
I watched the first two episodes of the new season of Bojack Horseman while I ate. I wondered what my ex thought of the new season so far, if he thought some parts were too heavy-handed. I think so, but I like it so far. After I finished I sat out on my porch and played Mahjong on my iPad. The app had an update and now it has levels instead of just being able to play the same set over and over. Each level now gets harder, with blocks that can’t be cleared that need to be planned around. I knew I wouldn’t like this – I don’t want to have harder levels, I want to play the same level again and again. On the fifth level, I ran out of moves with two tiles left that couldn’t be cleared. I tried three times to beat it and decided this game was no longer an option for me. I also realized as soon as I saw this update that it was going to end up being a metaphor for how I chose tasks and approached problems in my life, but didn’t realize it would play out so soon.
I went back and forth between whether or not I was going to go to the food truck tonight. I had a lot of fried chicken from the grocery store at home, but that would still be good for a few more days. We received an email with the menu and it made me feel some sort of emotion that was a mix between sadness, nostalgia, and sympathy. The menu listed their products: cheeseburger, chicken sandwich, hot dog, or fish sandwich, all with fries, and had three small generic pieces of clip art. I hope the people who work for the truck and who made the menu are happy.
When I got to the food truck, I noticed they had some signs on the side with more items than were listed on the menu we received. I thought that was nice. I ordered a cheeseburger with fries. My order came out right away, and I wondered if that meant it wasn’t very fresh.
I got back upstairs just in time for Jeopardy to start. I got a napkin, ketchup, and seasoning salt and sat down on the couch. The burger was pretty good and I didn’t notice if it wasn’t fresh, so that probably means it was. I used a lot of ketchup for the fries and wondered if I always use this much ketchup. I kept having to put more and was glad I had brought it to the living room with me so I wouldn’t have to keep getting up.
I ate Chex Mix that tasted like the flavor packet in ramen noodles. I felt like my blood sugar was dropping and I didn’t want the snacks I brought.